


Thinking Out Loud

by Bre



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Family Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluffy Ending, Married Olicity, Romantic Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-24
Updated: 2015-08-02
Packaged: 2018-03-25 12:16:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 17,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3810073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bre/pseuds/Bre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Olicity fluff drabbles.</p><p>So much Olicity fluff, you'll want to eat a pillow.</p><p>From my Tumblr 'One Line of Dialogue' fluff prompt request.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cold Feet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff Drabble Prompt - dettiot asked: Your feet are so cold!

**"Your feet are so cold!"**

“But you’re so warm.”

“No!” Felicity yelped through a giggle, shoving the comforter between them as she pushed herself back on the bed. She bit her lip to stop the stupid grin threatening to shovel its way across her face as Oliver followed her through the blanket jungle she’d tried to create. “Oliver, go get some socks.”

“I don’t want socks,” Oliver replied, reaching for her and she shoved on his chest, angling her legs away from his freezing toes. “I want you.”

“And you know darn well that normally that works because you know what your voice all low like that does to me, except right now I cannot _handle_ how cold your toes are.”

Oliver frowned at her, and his consternation made her giggle. “They are not that - hey!”

Felicity slipped out of his arms, nearly falling right off the bed, her laughter coming out in breathless gasps before Oliver wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her back under the comforter.

“No!” she said, and he laughed as he bundled her close, pulling his legs up and pressing his cold toes right against her warm thighs, making her shriek.

([Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/117062390544/your-feet-are-so-cold))

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


	2. You Can Cook?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff Drabble Prompt - kiki-1277 asked: "You can cook?!" :) #Olicity

**"You can cook?"**

Oliver glared at her. “Yes. I can cook.”

Felicity shrugged, wiping her used tissue across her raw nose. It hurt to breathe, much less wipe her runny nose, but she didn’t think that was something Oliver needed to be seeing; he’d already seen enough since she’d gotten walloped with some weird cold/flu combination that had had her vomiting everything she’d ever eaten in her entire life for nearly eighteen hours before her stomach settled enough to realize her head felt like a booger factory.

“Sit down,” Oliver said stringently, waving at a stool and she paused.

“Why are _you_ cranky?” she asked, choosing not to sit to spite him… although she did lean on the stool a little because it might have been a few days since she’d eaten anything substantive and the room was kind of spinning.

“Because you’re cranky.”

“I am _not_ cranky,” she replied crossly. “I think if there was a competition for cranky sick people, you’d win.”

“I had a sinus infection,” he argued, turning off the stove and taking something that did actually look kind of amazing off the stove. It looked like a sandwich. And soup.

Soup was good.

Unless her boyfriend was being a butthead, making butthead soup. 

Oliver paused where he was filling a bowl and glanced back at her. “Butthead soup? I’m making you butthead soup?”

Felicity’s eyes widened, realizing she’d said that out loud, her mind spitting out the first thing that came to mind: “I like butthead soup.”

Oliver blinked, and then he laughed, the sound coming out in a weird-sounding snort that made her think she might be contagious.

Finishing preparing her soup and what looked like the most amazing grilled cheese she’d ever seen in her life - should she be eating that? Maybe not, but she didn’t care, it looked like it had at least seven  
cheeses on there, and where had he gotten the cheese, did he ninja cheese into the kitchen? - Oliver set it out for her and then shoved a glass of orange juice her way.

She smiled, wiping her nose again, and he rounded the counter, pressing a kiss to her clammy forehead.

“You’re lucky I love you,” he said and it was her turn to snort.

“Please. You’re lucky _I_ love _you_ , mister,” she retorted.

Oliver laughed, pressing her frizzy hair off her forehead. Giving it another kiss, he nodded to her food. “Eat, and drink all the juice this time.”

When he turned away from her, she stuck her tongue out at his back.

([Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/117063611914/you-can-cook-olicity))

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


	3. Hiking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff Drabble Prompt - Anonymous asked: "after everything we are finally here"

**"After everything, we are finally here."**

She took a deep breath, hands on her hips, eyes squinting into the setting sun. The air was crisp and starting to get chilly, feeling insanely good inside her lungs as she took another deep breath.

Pausing even for those fifteen seconds reminded her that they’d been hiking up this mountain all day, and that her body had only enjoyed the first two hours.

Now everything was starting to hurt, and she could feel her heartbeat echoing in every limb, feel the ugly spot where her boot had been rubbing since midday and the strain in her shoulders from her backpack.

But they’d made it. _Thank the Google gods._

She wondered if Oliver would be okay just rolling right down the mountain when they went back home.

Oliver appeared behind her, pressing a dry kiss to the side of her neck. “You’re being melodramatic.”

“No,” she said instantly. “Melodramatic would be me throwing myself on the ground and cursing your name; _that_ would be melodramatic.” Felicity swung her backpack off, letting out a grateful groan. And then she paused. “I still might do that actually.”

Oliver chuckled. “Be my guest.”

And Felicity did just that, although she laid down gently instead of throwing herself because mountain dirt was not soft as say, beach dirt. It felt amazing, and she must have been making her happy noises because Oliver suddenly appeared over her with an amused look, blocking the stars slowly starting to appear.

She made a face, waving him away. “Blocking my view, buddy.”

Oliver cocked an eyebrow, and he would have looked annoyed except he couldn’t stop smiling.

“There’s a better view than your husband?” he asked cheekily and she let out a huff of laughter.

“Those stars didn’t force me to climb a really giant hill, thank you very much,” she said, lifting her boot to tap his shin.

Oliver moved swiftly, grabbing her leg before she could get far. She half-expected him to do something mean, like tickle her in retribution, but instead he stretched it, making her groan in appreciation as the movement hit a muscle she didn’t even know existed.

Oliver leaned over closer to her, hovering as he whispered, “I don’t think those stars can’t stretch every single one of those aching muscles of yours, Mrs. Queen.”

He slipped between her legs, gripping the back of her thighs and pressing her knees closer to her chest, and she groaned again.

“Oh,” Felicity replied, closing her eyes in pleasure as he stretched her. She gasped when Oliver pressed a chaste kiss to her chin before he settled fully between her legs, pressing other very hard things against her. “Oh, right.”

And then she pulled him down for a kiss.

([Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/117064713864/after-everything-we-are-finally-here))

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


	4. Giraffes and Boyfriends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff Drabble Prompt - simplyfragile asked: "But did you see that? We have to go back!"

**"But did you see that? We have to go back!"**

“Okay, okay, we’re going,” Oliver replied, letting his five-year-old daughter manhandle him back to the giraffe display. A small crowd was already gathering, and he spotted the giraffes starting to make their way over, smelling the food, knowing what was coming since the zookeepers were standing out with little bowls of food.

“Up, daddy, up!” Evie said, tugging on Oliver’s hand - more like practically climbing up his arm in her eagerness.

“Alright, up you go,” Oliver said, leaning down. He lifted his daughter up and over onto his shoulders, hooking his hands over her legs to keep her steady as she watched Felicity gather a few pieces of food to feed the giraffes.

The sun was high in the sky, nearly blinding him as Evie squirmed in her spot, leaning down to get the food from her mother.

With a delighted sound, she leaned forward, urging Oliver to move along with her and he said, “Wait your turn, Speedy, we’ll get there.”

Thea had been only too glad to relinquish the nickname to her niece, and Oliver would never admit to her that Evie would have given Thea a run for her money.

When it was their turn, Evie listened intensely as the zookeeper explained what she should do, and then she leaned right over, fearless as ever, her hand stretched out. Oliver kept a close eye on the giraffe as it leaned to meet her, wrapping its meaty lips around his daughter’s hand.

Evie squealed in delight, not once yanking her hand back in disgust or terror.

“Oh, yes,” Felicity said, and Oliver glanced over her.

“What?”

“Yes, you are going to have your hands full with her,” Felicity replied, wrapping her hand around his bicep. “You’ve got that look you’ll probably have when we meet her first boyfriend.”

Oliver glowered at her. “Let’s concentrate on giraffes potentially eating our daughter’s hand first, Felicity.”

She just smiled at him.

And then Evie leaned over, and her hands - her very giraffe-spit-addled hands - gripped his hair tightly as she said, “I already have a boyfriend, daddy! His name is Cory and he’s six and we decided we’re getting married on a beach.”

_“What?”_ Oliver asked and Evie tapped his nose, smearing giraffe spit all over his face as she giggled.

“Mommy said you’d make that face.”

Felicity laughed as Oliver glared at her.

([Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/117065718824/but-did-you-see-that-we-have-to-go-back))

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


	5. Apple Pie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff Drabble Prompt - tallandfeisty asked: "Is that apple pie?"

**"Is that apple pie?"**

Oliver paused mid-bite, looking up at the blonde stranger standing next to his table. She tucked her hair behind her ears, leaning over to scrutinize his piece of pie - which yes, was apple - before looking back at him.

“It is apple pie, isn’t it?” she asked, pointing her finger at the pie. “That is apple pie you’re eating.”

“I’m sorry,” Oliver said, shaking his head in confusion. “What?”

“That is my pie,” she said. “You are eating my pie.”

Oliver looked at his plate, at his half-eaten pie sat, before looking back at her. “I think it’s my pie.”

“Yes, which would make you a pie thief.”

“Excuse me?”

“You stole my pie.”

“Is your name on it?”

“I licked it.”

Oliver dropped his fork, sitting up straight. “You did what?”

She rolled her eyes. “Alright, I didn’t lick it, but I should have. Would serve you right, eating other people’s licked pies.”

“But you didn’t lick it,” Oliver retorted.

“Ah, but I could have!”

“But you didn’t.”

"Pointing out my lack of foresight isn’t helping your case,” she said. And then she paused, finally looking at him. An array of emotions fluttered across her face as she went from angry to concerned to some sort of realization to embarrassment to resolve, all the while her face slowly turning redder. “I don’t know you.”

“No,” Oliver said in agreement, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“You’re the new guy,” she said, waving her hand. “You’re the new welder, at John’s shop.”

“That’s me. And you are?” 

“I’m mortified,” she replied, sticking her hand out for him to shake. He took it, his eyes on her face, and he saw the instant she felt the tiny zap of electricity shoot through both of them when they touched. She gasped, freezing, her eyes widening slightly before continuing, “Yep, call me mortified. Morty for short.”

Oliver chuckled.

He wasn’t a guy to buy into the idea of small-town charm. He’d drifted for most of his adult life, bouncing from major metropolitan’s to tiny little towns just like this one, and he’d met every sort of person you could imagine under the sun. These days, people were nice and considerate, sure…

But he’d never been charmed before.

Still holding her hand, Oliver said, “It’s nice to meet you, Morty. I’m Oliver.”

She smiled at him, and he returned it, before her brow furrowed slightly, like she was trying to figure something out about him. They stared at each other, neither moving, Oliver becoming more and more aware of the way her hand felt in his when she suddenly nodded.

“Well. Okay.” She took her hand back, and Oliver found himself holding on a little bit tighter until their fingers separated. “Nice to meet you, Oliver. I’m gonna… go.” She backed away, her smile not quite going away as she said, “Morty out.”

He grinned at that, and she paused again, just looking at him, when someone yelled, making her jump, “Felicity, order up, doll!”

“Got it! Uh… bye,” she said softly, giving him a little wave. She turned before changing her mind, looking back at him. “Sorry about the pie attack. I just really like apple pie.”

"Me too,” Oliver said after her, and she gave him a smile over her shoulder before grabbing her takeout bag. Oliver watched her leave, watched her hop into an old Mini-Cooper, pulling out and heading towards the south part of town.

He turned back to his pie.

“Felicity,” he whispered, trying the name on for size. He liked it.

He checked his watch, wondering if she’d be back in at the same time tomorrow.

Continued in the ["I think I walked into the wrong house" ficlet prompt...](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3810073/chapters/8490982)

([Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/117068051539/is-that-apple-pie))

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


	6. Trashy Reality TV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff Drabble Prompt - fangirlfromthenorthcountry asked: "For the last time, we are not going to watch Keeping Up with Kardashians. "

**"For the last time, we are not going to watch Keeping Up with Kardashians."**

“For the last time,” Felicity repeated, leaning over and grabbing the remote from him. Oliver rolled his eyes as she switched it back. “Yes, we are.”

“No.” Oliver grabbed the remote, hitting the channel button for anything but the Kardashians. “We are not.”

Felicity moved to grab the remote again but Oliver switched hands, holding it away from her. She tried to scramble across his lap but Oliver wrapped his arm around her waist, stopping her in her tracks as he held the remote out of reach.

“Oliver, give me… that…” Felicity squirmed in his arms, trying to twist in his arm to get some leverage, but Oliver had her in tight. “Give me the remote!”

“No,” Oliver said with a grin. She reached up for him but he angled his face away. “You have a problem, Felicity.”

“You’re gonna have a problem real quick here if you don’t give me that-” Oliver threw the remote across the room. “Oliver!”

She stared at where he’d thrown the remote before looking at him.

“Betrayal,” she hissed, and Oliver laughed as he tried to pick her up to set her in his lap but she was having none of it. Instead she slipped her fingers up against his ribs and started tickling him, making him yelp, immediately dropping her.

“Hey, not fair!” he said, and Felicity slid off the couch, moving to run for the remote but Oliver caught her hand, yanking her back.

“No, my remote,” Felicity said dramatically, letting him pull her into his lap where he immediately wrapped his arms around her, anchoring her to him.

“Repeat after me, Felicity: ‘I have a problem’.”

“Oliver Queen has a problem,” she said, wrapping her arms over his, the grin evident in her voice and he snorted.

“’I recognize I can’t stop watching trashy reality TV’.”

“I recognize Oliver Queen ranted about Scott Disick’s shoe choices for over twenty minutes last week.”

“Those were awful shoes,” Oliver retorted and she laughed.

([Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/117069384334/for-the-last-time-we-are-not-going-to-watch))

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


	7. Decaf

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff Drabble Prompt - onlyhere4olicity asked: "Who changed the coffee?"

**"Who changed the coffee?"**

“Hmm?” Oliver asked, not lifting his head from the newspaper he was skimming. He turned the page, watching Felicity from the corner of his eye as she sniffed at the bag of ground coffee again before giving him another accusatory glare.

“Oliver, this is not my coffee.”

He played at being nonchalant as he looked over at her, furrowing his brow. “What are you talking about?”

Felicity stalked over to the table, shoving the coffee bag under his nose. “Smell this.”

He took a sniff, smelling only coffee grounds. He looked up at her, tentatively saying, “It smells like coffee.”

“No,” Felicity replied, dragging the word out. She yanked the bag back, pointing at it. “This is _decaf_.”

Oliver frowned. “What? You can’t smell the difference between regular and decaf coffee.”

“I can!” She set the bag down, popping a hip as she crossed her arms. “What did you do with my coffee, Oliver?”

Oliver finally closed the newspaper and got up, grabbing his used coffee cup and taking it to the sink. “I didn’t do anything with it considering it’s sitting right there.”

“You did,” she replied. “You’ve been telling me since I got pregnant that I need to switch to decaf-”

“Which you do-”

“And I specifically said, ‘If you take my coffee away from me, I’ll slap you with a spatula’.” Felicity turned and grabbed a large black spatula from a tin on the counter and came back, waving it at him. “Where’s the coffee, Oliver?”

“Felicity, you can’t possibly tell me you can actually _smell_ the difference-”

“Coffee. Oliver.” She waved the spatula at him again, narrowly missing his arm and a snort of laughter nearly escaped him. She heard it and her glare grew sharper. “I will slap you silly, don’t try me.”

Oliver held his hands up. “I didn’t do anything with it.”

“Is this the world we’re bringing out child into, a world where their father tricks their mother?”

Oliver bit his tongue to keep himself from laughing, because she was serious. She was way too serious, and it was the most adorable thing he’d ever seen. His four-month pregnant wife, a tiny bump already showing underneath her tank top, waving a spatula at him with wild sex-hair and makeup-smudged eyes…

Oliver couldn’t help himself: he grinned.

“I knew it!” she snapped, actually hitting him with the spatula this time and he winced, dodging away from it, laughing. She tried to hit him again but he moved out of the way.

“Alright, alright, you coffee lunatic,” he said, moving to the sink. He pulled out a large plastic bag full of coffee grounds and her entire face lit up like he was handing her the key to all the FBI firewalls. “I was just trying to protect the Bump.”

She snorted, taking the bag from him and opening it. She took a deep breath, a content sigh leaving her as he continued, “But if you want a kid with two heads, then by all means.”

Felicity grinned happily at him. “If our kid does have two heads, it will be because of the stress your coffee shenanigans cause me.”

“Right. My bad then,” Oliver replied sarcastically. She waved the spatula over her shoulder in response as he followed her to the coffee machine. “I’m gonna go get ready.”

Oliver gripped her hips, turning her so he could lean down and press a chaste kiss to her stomach before coming back up to kiss his wife. She wrapped her arms around his neck, giving him a proper good morning greeting before turning back to her coffee.

After a moment of watching her, letting the quiet, gentle moment fill him with warmth and joy, watching the love of his life make her coffee, Oliver lifted her hair off her shoulder, kissing the back of her neck. “At least try the decaf.”

“I am still holding my spatula, Oliver.”

([Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/117089479729/who-changed-the-coffee))

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you recognize the inspiration for this one, all the kudos to you!
> 
> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


	8. Blessed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff Drabble Prompt - Anonymous asked: "Pancakes or French Toast it really isn't that hard"

**"Pancakes or French Toast, it really isn't that hard."**

Felicity paused at the entrance to the kitchen at the sound of her children talking. She peeked around the corner, watching Evie pull out several the items to make breakfast with Tommy sitting at the island, fiddling on his tablet.

Johnny was due to fly in that night, just in time for the rehearsal dinner - although she’d heard an earful about that from Tommy: _“You guys are already married - you’ve **been** married. Why do we have to rehearse anything?”_ Oliver had slapped him upside the head, saying, _“Because you need the practice; you can barely remember to put your car in park before getting out.”_

_“One time. I did that one time, dad, and you’ll never let me live it down.”_

“You’d be surprised how hard of a decision this is,” her son replied.

Felicity leaned against the doorjamb, watching them banter, a small smile on her face as she played with her wedding ring.

She couldn’t believe that this was her life. That she had married Oliver Queen, that they had had three amazing children - all of whom had grown up not too shabby in her estimation - and that they were getting the chance to renew their vows tomorrow.

The word _blessed_ felt too hokey, but it was the word that floated through her head.

“It’s not that hard, Tommy,” Evie replied to her brother, leaning on the counter. “Come on, my offer to make you breakfast is quickly expiring.”

“Fine, then. Both.”

“I’m not making both, what is wrong with you?”

“Come on, Evie, I just broke up with Shelly, take some pity on me.”

“You dated her for, like, two months. I’m sure you’re really heartbroken.”

Felicity shook her head at that. Tommy was living up to his namesake, as Oliver liked to grouse about every other day. He might make the rounds, but she knew the second he found the right girl, the girl that stopped him in his tracks and made him rethink everything in his life, he would turn into a giant puppy dog. Just like Oliver. Just like Tommy, if the stories he told her about him and Laurel were any indication.

“Yes, and _she_ made me both.”

“Well, that’s tough shit for you. I’m making French Toast.”

“I want pancakes.”

Evie picked up a dishtowel and threw it at Tommy’s face, and Felicity smiled.

She heard the gentle sound of clothes rustling behind her before her husband of thirty years stepped up, wrapping his arms around her waist. She sighed, leaning back into him as he too peeked around the corner.

“It’s nice having them back in the house,” he murmured, pressing his lips to her temple lovingly.

“I think we should instate a new family rule,” Felicity replied, wrapping her arms around his where he cradled her against his chest. “Nobody can live out of state anymore. Everyone moves back home.”

Oliver groaned. “Then they’d never leave.”

Felicity nodded, grinning as she said, “Point taken. I already got an earful from Evie last night after they found us in the laundry room.” Oliver laughed softly as she imitated her daughter, “’Have some decency, mom, god!’”

“Tommy threw ‘stop snogging’ at me again,” he replied and Felicity giggled.

Oliver sighed, holding her closer as they watched Evie and Tommy talk. Evie moved around, making both French toast and pancakes, as they talked, Tommy showing her the new specs for a club he was looking to acquire and Evie explained the ins and outs of her new business partners.

Yes.

Life was good.

Very good.

([Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/117091578614/pancakes-or-french-toast-it-really-isnt-that))

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


	9. What If...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff Drabble Prompt - sassejane asked: "Oliver, if we didn't get blown up, how do you think our date would have ended?"

**"Oliver, if we didn't get blown up, how do you think our date would have ended?"**

Oliver opened his eyes at her question, staring at the wall as her words bounced around in his head. Felicity was propped up behind him, half sprawled across his body, her naked chest pressed to his side as she dragged her fingernail in random designs over his bare back.

Every few inches her nail hit a scar and she always took the time to make a special little design for each one, making sure not to skip any, making sure not to leave them behind. Because they were part of him, part of his history, as she had told him once. They helped shape the man he was, the man she loved, and so as a result she loved them, despite the still painful memories they were tied to.

Oliver sighed, thinking back to that night.

He’d been so nervous. He didn’t think he’d ever been that nervous on a first date before. He’d been ready to chug his scotch and ask for three more just to calm the nest of butterflies beating a steady rhythm against the walls of his stomach.

Until they started talking.

Until they touched hands.

Until he was finally able to put into words the change she had brought to his life.

They rarely talked about that night, because of the darkness that followed, and he specifically chose to avoid thinking about all that. Because things had turned out alright. _They_ were alright.

Oliver smiled, thinking back to how he had imagined a hundred times over how the night might go, how it might end, on his way to the restaurant.

Her fingers danced across his back as he said, “Dinner, obviously, and then dessert. Although I think we would have both eaten way too much because we were so nervous, so dessert might not have worked out.” Felicity chuckled. “That hadn’t stopped me from spending a significant amount of time wondering what your red lips would’ve looked like while eating a piece of chocolate cake.”

Her hand paused for a split second, inhaling quickly at the insinuation in his words - the reminder that they had been friends but that they’d been opening a door to so much more, and while it had seemed so innocent at the time, there was still the _promise_ underlying everything that night of what could happen - before continuing.

“I didn’t want that night to ever end,” he continued softly, closing his eyes, picturing it as he said, “I would have suggested we take a walk, and then I would have noticed you were wearing those red heels that made your legs look like they go on forever and offered to drive you home instead. But you would’ve wanted to walk too. I’d have given you my jacket.”

Her hand stopped as she listened.

“I thought about a dozen different ways I would walk with you, Felicity, maybe more. I thought about what you’d look like with my jacket over your shoulders, how beautiful you were; I thought about holding your hand, or wrapping my arm around your shoulder.” He opened his eyes again. “I think as long as I was touching you, I would have been good.”

Felicity was quiet as she laid her head on his back, and he wondered if she could hear his heart racing from residual nerves of their first disastrous date night.

“We would have eventually made it back to your apartment, after spending way too long walking - I would have offered to carry you anywhere because I knew your feet would be hurting, but you would have rolled your eyes at me, just like you do now.”

He felt her grinning.

His voice was heavy with emotion. “I would have kissed you goodnight, our first kiss, the way a first kiss should be; and I would have wanted so much more. I wasn’t sure how I would have responded if you’d asked me to come inside.” She hugged him closer. “But I think I would have said no. Because I wanted to do it right. Because I knew I was in love with you, and I didn’t want to mess it up.”

“You wouldn’t have messed it up, Oliver,” she replied, her voice quiet, before adding, “You might have tripped a few times,” Oliver laughed at that, “But you wouldn’t have messed it up.”

Oliver was silent for a moment.

“To anyone else it would have just been a first date, but it would have been the best night of my life.” He swallowed. “In a lot of ways, it was, actually. The best night of my life. It got me through those months afterwards.”

Felicity’s breath hitched slightly before she turned, pressing a gentle kiss to the center of his back.

([Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/117094387489/oliver-if-we-didnt-get-blown-up-how-do-you))

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


	10. Jealousy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff Drabble Prompt - mersayseh asked: BRE. Do the Oliver being awesome after Felicity is jealous of Laurel one we talked about. PRETTY PLEASE???

The first thing Oliver noticed when he went back downstairs was how quiet Felicity was. He also noticed her quickly switching from the cameras covering the Verdant dance floor and bar, pushing herself to another computer monitor and pulling up some random search algorithms.

Oliver paused, his eyebrows rising when she didn’t even turn to greet him. And then his eyes narrowed at the back of her head, thinking back to all the other times he’d come down here after meeting with Laurel and she’d acted… quiet. No, not quiet, withdrawn. And it always took her a few hours before she started becoming Felicity again.

He sighed, wondering how in the real hell she could honestly feel that way. She twitched, like she could feel his gaze.

Oliver walked up behind her. Without saying a word, he turned her chair, pulling her from the computer.

“Oliver? Kind of in the middle of…” He kneeled in front of her, and she trailed off, her brow furrowing in confusion. “Oliver? This floor is massively dirty, you know.”

He smiled at that, running his hands up her thighs, over her tight blue skirt as he rolled the chair closer, pulling her between his legs where he crouched before her until his hands cradled her hips.

“Do you remember when we first met Barry?” he asked.

She raised her eyebrows, puckering her lips as her mind ran through every possible angle he could be coming from with this topic of conversation.

Finally, she nodded.

Oliver licked his lips. “And do you remember how jealous I was?”

Understanding lit her face and she bit her bottom lip. She glanced away, her eyes finding the computer she’d had the bar camera feed pulled up on.

“Are you asking me if I’m jealous?” she asked.

Oliver gave her a level look. “I’m asking if you remember how jealous I was when I had to sit back and watch you flirt with Barry nonstop. And then when you told him who I was. And then when he was able to talk with you about all the science and computer stuff that goes right over my head. That I had to stand back and watch you blossom in a way that I wasn’t able to.”

Felicity’s face softened at his admission, _his_ Felicity shining back through at him again, and he leaned closer to her, tightening his hands on her hips.

“The way you’re feeling right now?” he said softly, cocking his head. “That’s how I feel when you get all closed off after I talk with Laurel.”

She opened her mouth with a quick retort before changing her mind.

“I don’t get… closed off,” she said unconvincingly. And then her shoulders deflated, her hands finding his forearms, holding him. “Alright, maybe a little bit.”

Triumphant relief stomped through his chest at her acquiescence - he’d been prepared for her to deny it until the sun went down.

Felicity was a damn confident woman; she knew what she wanted, and she went for it. Her morals were the guiding line for the path he’d taken the minute she’d come on board, because she didn’t waver in her convictions, in her feelings, not an inch.

So having to sit back and watch her shrink, even a little bit, when he talked with Laurel, seeing some of the light go down even the tiniest bit, was entirely unacceptable.

“Why?” he asked.

Felicity stared at her fingers where she played with a long slim scar along his arm before she met his gaze. “She knows you, Oliver. I mean, I know I know you, because I do, but she knows more of you, in ways I won’t get to. I don’t know, I’m just kind of… more aware of it when I see you and gorgeous Laurel talking. I don’t know, it’s-”

“You’re talking about Ollie?” he asked and her face scrunched at him referring to himself in the third person again. “Because Ollie was an idiot; an idiot who went through a lot to get to _this point_ , to let me fully appreciate and love what I have.” He leaned forward and she opened her legs, wrapping them around his chest as he wrapped his arms around her waist. “You.”

Felicity smiled, the smile quickly morphing into a grin as she she blushed. And then she rolled her eyes.

“I know that,” she said, leaning forward and draping her arms over his shoulders. “I know that, but I’m still…”

Oliver nodded. “Alright. Well, as long as you’re still okay with me ‘shooting eye arrows’ at Barry, then…”

Felicity huffed. “But that’s so stupid, Oliver, and you know it.”

“And so is this,” he replied.

Felicity made a face. “Stop using logic on me.”

He laughed, leaning in for a kiss that she heartily returned.

([Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/117101131939/bre-do-the-oliver-being-awesome-after-felicity-is))

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


	11. Jewelry Box

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff Drabble Prompt - reynasavilaramirezarellano asked: One line: "tell me that's not what I think it is"

**"Tell me that's not what I think it is."**

Her fingers started shaking so badly she could barely hold the tiny little box.

She was putting away laundry. _Putting away laundry_ , and this is what she finds? What kind of person actually hides important things in their underwear drawer? The one time she does both of their laundry, the one time she actually folds it up instead of hanging only the important things and leaving the rest laying about much to Oliver’s chagrin, _she finds this_.

“Oh frack,” she whispered, staring at the closed jewelry box. It was totally a jewelry box. It was the perfect size for a perfect little ring that might be even more perfect than anything she could ever imagine.

Her head was a jumble of nonsense as she stared at the charcoal-grey box.

She couldn’t think straight because she’d just found a ring box hiding in Oliver’s underwear.

White noise rushed through her head as her heart tried to literally climb up her throat. She wasn’t sure how long she stood there, staring at it, wondering if maybe she was hallucinating because the way she was reacting? Maybe someone had slipped her a drug of some kind. Someone had _roofied_ her to make her think she was holding an actual _engagement ring_.

Because this was… extreme? It felt extreme. Why was she reacting…

“Oh.”

Felicity spun at the surprised breathy word to see Oliver standing in the doorway of their bedroom, his eyes on the box in her hands.

She froze, her mouth hanging open, before she moronically shoved her hands behind her back.

“I wasn’t snooping,” she said immediately, a hot blush rushing across her face. It felt like a bunch of pine needles running over her skin as it spread down her neck and chest, every inch her suddenly feeling very hot and clammy.

And the jewelry box she held clenched in her hand was on literal fire.

Felicity bit into her bottom lip, sucking it into her mouth, waiting for Oliver to do something - anything, but he just stood there.

She was babbling before she could stop herself. “I was… actually putting your clothes away for once, because I like to pretend I’m dutiful, or something like that. I mean, I am dutiful, I cooked you breakfast this morning, but maybe I was trying for _more_ dutiful, and-”

“Felicity,” Oliver said, a smile threatening to crack his face. He stepped into the room, holding his hand out. “Can I see the box?”

“No. What box? There is no box,” Felicity said, stepping backwards and quickly turning, shoving the box back into the underwear drawer. She held up her hands, her face feeling even hotter as she said, “See?”

He pinched his lips, and she wasn’t sure this time if it was to keep himself from smiling, or because she was acting like a total boob. He stepped around her, opening the drawer and pulling it out. Her eyes instantly latched onto it, the white noise and heart-trying-to-escape-while-it-was-still-alive feeling coming back.

And it only tripled when Oliver didn’t say a word; instead, he lowered himself to one knee before her and held the box up.

“Oh god…”

He smiled at her when she finally managed to drag her eyes away from it.

“I’ve had this ring for the last two years, Felicity,” he said softly, his voice coming out in a purr-y growl thing that made her stomach twist in knots. “I knew the minute when we gave this a shot that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you.”

She let out a tiny whimper as tears surged to the surface, and she blinked when they started making him blurry.

He opened the box, revealing the most amazing ring she’d ever seen - it was a small, emerald-cut diamond, surrounded by a tiny nest of emeralds.

Emotion literally choked her.

Oliver gently grabbed her left hand and pressed a kiss to her shaking fingers before looking up at her.

“Felicity Meghan Smoak, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

The word was out without a thought - “Yes!” - and she launched herself at him in the same breath.

Oliver barely caught her in time as they fell backwards, their combined laughter through kisses and whispered, “Yes, yes, yes, yes,” filling the room.

Those happy chaste kisses quickly morphed into passionate, life-affirming kisses.

At some point he slipped the ring on her finger, and at some point she looked him in the eye and told him, “I knew too,” before words became soft caresses and passionate touches as they made love to each other - as they made a promise to each other for the future.

([Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/117106247914/one-line-tell-me-thats-not-what-i-think-it-is))

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


	12. Walk You Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff Drabble Prompt - bowsmoakandarrow asked: One line: "I think I walked into the wrong house."
> 
> (A continuation of the [“Is that apple pie?” prompt ficlet](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3810073/chapters/8490742) \- definitely recommend reading first, but not necessary)

**"I think I walked into the wrong house."**

Oliver had been on his feet the minute the front door opened, and his heart had stopped the instant he realized it was the blonde stranger from the diner.

_Felicity._

He hadn’t run into her since she’d come up to his table, demanding to know what kind of pie he was eating before moving right into claiming that the piece he was eating was _hers_.

For the first few days, he’d arrived at the exact same time, even had a piece of apple pie every single time (well, almost every single time, the third day someone had snagged the last piece and he’d been left with cherry, not his favorite). He didn’t need a piece of pie every day and he’d thrown himself into working out extra hard as a result of it, but he’d had one, because he wanted to run into her again.

He wanted her to come over and ask him what kind of pie he was eating.

But she never came in.

He’d thought about asking Diggle who the girl was - who _Felicity_ was - but he always changed his mind at the last second. He couldn’t afford emotional attachments, and he was already walking a fine line with the Diggles; he’d learned his lesson, and he wasn’t about to get burned again. Especially in a small town like this one, where everyone knew everyone, and if something happened - and that was a big if, considering he hadn’t seen her again - then not only would he be known by everyone from the guy who rang up his beer to the little girls who played hopscotch, but he would get kicked to the town shit list quicker than he could blink if he hurt her.

They’d barely spoken and he already knew she was beloved. A woman like that didn’t feel comfortable enough coming up to random strangers to harass them about pie of all things without having an emotional base that could withstand an earthquake.

For fuck’s sake, he was in town for less than a month and he’d already landed himself not only a good job and a decent boss with an amazing wife and kid who invited him to dinner, but a crush on a mysterious blonde girl who told him she’d licked his pie.

And he certainly had _not_ spent way too many minutes thinking her and licking in the same sentence.

“No,” Oliver said, shoving his hands into his pockets awkwardly, his heart positively thrumming at the sight of her. “No, you’re probably in the right place. If you’re looking for the Diggles.”

Felicity cracked a smile at that. “I know. I figured John and Lyla hadn’t adopted a super gorgeous-” She blanched at her own word choice as Oliver nearly bit his tongue at her reaction. “And by gorgeous, I mean that you’re aesthetically nice to look at, not super gorgeous as in I wondered how you could eat so much pie and still have all that muscle.” Her eyes widened as his stomach dropped at her words. “Not that I think about your muscles. Or know you eat pie. Or anything. Or that I’m judging. You can eat anything you want, eat all the things.” She closed her eyes. “And I’m talking way too much about eating, and it’s getting weird, so I’m going to stop in three, two, one…”

Oliver could only stare.

She was _adorable_.

Since when did he think of women as adorable and not want to ruffle their hair?

No, this was different. This was the kind of adorable that made him want to do some of his own eating where she was involved.

Did he really just think that?

“I was looking for Lyla,” Felicity continued, and Oliver took pains to not stare at the way her blush was dipping below her shirt. “I’m here to-”

“Aunt ‘Licity!” someone shrieked and Oliver turned in time to see a four-year-old Sara Diggle launching herself across the room and into Felicity’s arms. Oliver watched her laugh, already prepared to catch the bundle of energy that jumped into her arms.

“Sara-butt!” she said and Sara’s laughter echoed through the room as Lyla and Diggle came out.

“Felicity,” Lyla said. “I didn’t think you were gonna make it.”

“Late night,” Felicity replied, rolling her eyes, letting Sara climb up over her shoulder, basically using her as a jungle gym. Oliver noticed Felicity kept a very close eye on the little tyke, her arms constantly on guard in case she slipped. “Some code issues resurfaced.”

Lyla leaned over the couch, picking up a laptop he hadn’t noticed. “Is everything okay?”

“Oh yeah,” Felicity replied, wrangling the mini-Diggle and setting her down again. “And I definitely have time to look at your laptop.”

“Good,” Lyla said, walking over and handing it off. “I swear it started yelling at me.”

Felicity smiled at that. “Well, the computer whisperer is here.” Her eyes switched to Oliver - almost involuntarily, and so quick he almost didn’t catch it - before she looked at Diggle. “Keeping out of trouble, John?”

“You know me, Smoak,” he replied, stepping up beside Oliver. He didn’t notice the giant man was standing next to him until Diggle clapped him on the back. “You met Oliver?”

“Yes,” Oliver replied just as Felicity said, “I did. I yelled at him about his apple pie last week. On accident.”

Diggle chuckled, sliding a glance at Oliver. “The girl loves her damn pie.”

Oliver smiled, his eyes finding Felicity again to find her already looking at him. If his heart hadn’t already been galloping, it definitely was now, and the rush of adrenaline when their eyes met made his limbs weak.

Neither noticed the knowing look Diggle and Lyla shared.

“Well, I’m off,” Felicity said, holding up the laptop as she turned, saying to Lyla, “I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“You walk, Felicity?” Diggle asked, stopping Felicity in her tracks.

“Yes, Officer John, but I’ll be fine.”

Oliver wasn’t sure if the opening was for him, or if it was real concern, or what the hell happened either way, because his mouth was already opening as he took a step towards her, his hands still shoved in his pocket, the words, “Can I walk you home?” already out.

Felicity froze, her eyes widening. She opened her mouth to respond, and for a second Oliver thought he was going to have to embrace his own dose of mortification when she said no, before she reeled her reaction back in.

“Uh… sure.” Her lips twitched, like she was trying to keep from smiling. “I’d like that.”

([Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/117118473409/one-line-i-think-i-walked-into-the-wrong-house))

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


	13. Looks Better On You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff Drabble Prompt - andcreation asked: "Felicity, is that my shirt?"

Felicity froze where she’d been crossing the foundry to her other bank of computers. It was nearly midnight, and she had been alone, wandering around barefoot, hips swaying as she bounced in time with the music blaring from one computer… 

She _had_ been alone, fixing a few glitches in the servers, and that was an important part of the story.

Felicity slowly turned, tugging on the large t-shirt she wore. Yes, it was Oliver’s, and yes, she was swimming in it, and yes, this was _absolutely mortifying_.

Oliver stood at the base of the stairs, eyebrows raised as he stared at her expectantly.

“Um,” Felicity said. She straightened the shirt again, rubbing her suddenly damp palms on it. Why was she so nervous? Maybe it had something to do with the fact that she was wearing _Oliver’s shirt_ and he wasn’t supposed to _see her wearing it_. “Yes. It is. I borrowed it. Not that I borrow your clothes often - _ever_. I don’t borrow them ever, this is the first time. There was coffee,” She waved at the servers, “And I was… moving, and I knocked the cup over and normally this would have been one of those moments where you calmly evaluate the situation because it’s just coffee except that it was going straight for Geraldine.”

“Geraldine?”

“One of the… servers.” A hot flush climbed up Felicity’s neck, as if she wasn’t blushing enough already. “I sort of named the servers.”

Oliver’s lips quirked in amusement and Felicity’s blush felt like lava under her skin and she averted her eyes, waving at Geraldine.

“So I did what any… non-sane person would do and used my own shirt to clean it up. Hence the need for a new one. To wear.” Felicity laughed uncomfortably, crossing her arms. “It’s better than coming down here when I was just wearing my bra.” Oliver’s eyebrow rose a little higher, his eyes narrowing slightly and her jaw closed with a snap. “Not that I wander around in my bra. Ever. I don’t do that. I’m really very professional. All the time. Most of the time. Usually. Just not… right now.”

Oliver finally moved, slowly closing the distance between them, tucking his hands in his pants pockets.

“This is weird. I’m making this weird, aren’t I?” Felicity asked, nodding. She wasn’t wearing her shoes, and Oliver suddenly seemed a lot taller than he normally was. It didn’t help that she was wearing one of his shirts that was like a second dress over her skirt. Had he always been this _big_? “We’re not those kinds of friends, and I know that - and oh my god, not that I think about that, being _those_ kinds of friends, with you, like… _that kind of friend_. This was a one-time thing, I promise. Wearing your clothes. And I’m thinking a new rule of ‘no more coffee for Felicity’ should be instated.”

Oliver stopped before her, biting his lips to keep from smiling.

“I’ll just bring an overnight bag next time,” Felicity continued before cringing. “Not… like that, for backup clothes, not… Okay, I’m stopping.”

“Felicity,” Oliver said, and he dragged her name out just enough to make her breath catch as he looked down at her. “It’s fine. I don’t mind.”

“Oh. Okay,” Felicity said, slightly more breathless than she should have been as he moved to step around her.

He gave her a smile, moving to step around her. He turned his head as he passed her, his voice low, and said, “It looks better on you anyway,” and then he headed towards the back, leaving Felicity staring at Geraldine, her heart beating way too fast.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/118373426519/felicity-is-that-my-shirt)
> 
> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


	14. Auntie Thea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff Drabble Prompt - Anonymous asked: Can you maybe right something with Thea and established olicity. Maybe auntie thea!

Oliver had never felt anything so comfortable in his life.

He knew, on some level, that that was an extreme exaggeration, but right now, this couch?

He wanted to weld himself to it and never move again.

He closed his eyes, letting his head fall back, his neck and shoulder muscles relaxing to the point he winced in discomfort; his muscles were used to being wound up, at constant attention, and now they were too tight, like they didn’t know what relaxing was anymore.

When was the last time he’d just sat back and did nothing? He’d been moving nonstop for… well, it felt like forever, from being up with Evie all day to trying to not let the house look like someone had literally vomited peach and apple baby food everywhere and then going out at night with Thea on the comms while Felicity took over Evie duty.

He’d thought running a Fortune 500 company by day and then putting on the hood by night had been hard, but a tiny little baby that was on the north end of being able to expend massive amounts of energy with very little sleep _and_ being the Arrow?

He was _exhausted_.

Felicity wasn’t faring much better. Since Palmer had sneakily - he’d wanted to punch the bastard in the face when he found out he’d hoisted his entire company on Felicity’s shoulders… while at the same time thank him - signed over Palmer Tech (now named Queen, Incorporated) to her, she’d been rather busy in her new role as CEO and managing board member.

The role reversal was… unexpected.

And everything Oliver didn’t even realize he needed in his life.

He’d been raised from day one to take over the family company, groomed to take after Robert Queen, to find a Moira Queen, to live _that_ life… but now he was the stay-at-home dad/vigilante-by-night while Felicity took care of the business aspect, and while he was tired ninety-nine percent of the time, he loved it.

Although her long hours during the day in conjunction with his long night hours translated to him not seeing his wife, past a few hours here and there where they mostly caught up on sleep.

Like right now.

Evie cooed, letting out a little giggle as Thea whispered nonsense to her, the sound carrying throughout the loft.

They were visiting his sister - “required non-emergency family time” - and he knew he should be more alert, more active - more _inter_ active - but he couldn’t bring himself to move.

Felicity was already passed out, her body slumped against his on the couch, her cheekbone digging awkwardly into his shoulder.

He didn’t even care.

_It was bliss._

A minute or an hour passed, Oliver wasn’t sure when he finally came back to reality to the tune of a shrill giggle coming from Evie. He blinked himself awake, lifting his head - which felt heavier than a Mack truck, and his neck muscles agreed - to see what the commotion was, finding his girls instantly.

Felicity was still asleep on top of him, her mouth gaped. A tiny sliver of drool slipped from the corner of her lips, soaking into his shirt, and laying on the floor in front of them, a wide blanket spread out with way more toys than a child should ever need, were Evie and Thea.

Oliver smiled. Thea was on her back, lifting Evie up and down, touching their noses before pushing her back up, and every time Evie went up, a sharp squeal of delight left her.

“Look at that,” Thea said, turning to look at him. “Daddy’s awake.”

Oliver could only grunt, sleep-heavy eyes watching his daughter.

“And Mommy’s drooling all over - hey!”

Evie’s giggle came out in a garbled mess as the train of drool dripping from her mouth landed right on Thea’s face. Oliver laughed, the movement jostling Felicity awake as Thea turned her attention back to her niece.

“What? I’m awake,” Felicity said, sitting up quickly, her words coming out slurred. She looked around in confusion, her hair frizzy where she’d been laying on him before she wiped her face. Oliver grinned at his wife - who somehow managed to look even more beautiful covered in drool with half her hair sticking up and the eyeliner on one side smudged from rubbing against him - as she looked back at the spot she’d left on him. “Oops.”

“Like mother, like daughter, I see,” Thea said, and Evie babbled her agreement.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/118839635509/can-you-maybe-right-something-with-thea-and)
> 
> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


	15. Breast Milk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff Drabble Prompt - Anonymous asked: YOU WANT FLUFF!! I GOT FLUFF!! since you reblogged that pic of that couple and the baby olicity- Felicity is with baby Queen as Oliver/Roy/Dig are down and roy freaks out cuz oliver took a drink of breast milk XD

“Oliver, can you grab me a bottle? Evie just woke up.”

Felicity’s voice carried out from upstairs, and Oliver shouted back, “Yeah, hang on.”

“Here,” Roy said, holding out his empty beer bottle when Oliver passed him. “While you’re fetching that, fetch me a cold one.”

Oliver stopped where he’d been about to enter the kitchen, and slowly turned, leveling Roy with a glare worthy of making grown men pee their pants. Roy’s amused smirk instantly disappeared and he stood up.

“I’ll get it.”

“Yeah,” Oliver said with a nod. “You will.”

“Grab me one too, Harper,” Diggle called after them and Roy gave him a dark look over his shoulder that only made Diggle chuckle before he followed Oliver into the kitchen.

Roy watched him go through the motions of preparing the baby bottle for Evie. He did it with precision and focus, and Roy felt like he was watching him prepare to go out on patrol rather than feeding his daughter.

“Do you use formula?” Roy asked, grabbing two beers from the fridge. “I got to hear all about formula when Digg made me go shopping with him that one time.” 

Roy tipped a bottle at Oliver, who nodded, and he grabbed a third.

“No, we’re getting through what she pumped for when Thea was watching her earlier,” Oliver replied absently.

Roy nodded, opening the beer bottles, looking up in time to see Oliver dab some milk on his arm, checking for the temperature, right before he _licked it off._

“Oh my god, did you just lick that?”

Oliver looked at him nonchalantly, shrugging. “Yeah.”

“Dude, gross! That came from… that came from her… from her…” Roy waved his hands over his chest, unable to comprehend what he just saw. “That’s for… _babies_.”

Oliver chuckled, shaking his head. “You really don’t want to know what we do in the bedroom then.”

He winked at him.

“Oh god.” Roy’s eyes slammed shut, the imagery already assaulting him and he made a face as Oliver left the kitchen, heading upstairs. “I so did not need that in my head, Oliver!”

Oliver laughed. “Don’t be such a sissy.”

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/120411244174/you-want-fluff-i-got-fluff-since-you-reblogged)
> 
> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


	16. Hopeless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver and Felicity's engagement party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (The amazing andcreation suggested [this dress](http://andcreation.tumblr.com/post/121279044438/wmagazine-sunday-best-photograph-by-david) for Felicity at her and Oliver’s engagement party.)

“And where is your bride-to-be?” Thea asked, sidling up next to Oliver where he stood at the bar. She already had a glass of champagne in hand, and the sparkling liquid perfectly complimented the soft gold floor-length dress she wore. She cocked her head. “You do know that the whole ‘wait to see each other’ thing only applies to the actual wedding, right?”

“Ha ha, Speedy,” Oliver replied, nodding his thanks when the bartender set his glass of scotch before him. He took a sip and turned back to face the ballroom. 

It was already starting to fill up, he realized with a sinking stomach.

When Felicity had first mentioned an engagement party, this hadn’t been what he’d envisioned. He’d thought a simple party with friends and family, something where the main drink being passed around was beer and the only food was Diggle’s killer BBQ ribs.

Not this.

It had been the Board’s idea, and Felicity had reluctantly agreed. Considering the huge change Palmer Tech was going to undergo soon - and the fact that she was marrying someone who had previously been at the helm of the company and hadn’t done the best job - the investors needed some reassurance, something to show that Felicity, a very new CEO who had done a great job so far despite her infancy in the business world, would still be maintaining the course. So that meant inviting the investors into their lives, showing a united front, reassuring them that Felicity marrying - Oliver Queen or not - was only going to _help_.

He did not miss this part about being a Queen.

“So where is she?”

“She said I was distracting her, so she kicked me out of the house.”

Thea laughed. “Oh, poor Ollie, having to socialize without her.”

Oliver made a face and took a healthy drink of his scotch. He was going to need it. The last thing he wanted to do was slip back into the Oliver Queen persona he used to adopt when he _had_ been CEO of the late Queen Consolidated.

He’d spent too much time since then just being… Oliver. And that Oliver didn’t do well at these types of things anymore.

He looked around. Still no Felicity, although his wandering eye did catch an older couple who waved at him and headed over.

He groaned just as Thea’s hand landed on his arm.

“She’s here.”

“Where?” Oliver asked, following her line of sight.

“There. You’re saved.”

Oliver let out a deep breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding in since he’d entered the room. The sour feeling flitting through his veins slowly fizzled out at the sight of his fiancee making her way through the crowd.

She was a vision, dressed in a simple white lace dress that had a series of cutouts in strict lines down the center and across her upper chest and waist. It was simple and classic and perfectly Felicity. Her hair was up in a high, tight ponytail, the long strands brushing across her upper back as she greeted people and shook hands.

It was only when the crowed parted that he saw the bright pink stilettos, giving her a couple inches more height and doing _amazing_ things to her legs, that perfectly matched her lipstick.

Only Felicity Smoak (future Smoak-Queen) could walk into a room wearing bright pink anything and look more elegant than the entire room combined.

Felicity caught his eye and smiled.

Thea chuckled next to him. “You are hopeless, big brother.”

Oliver nodded slightly, putting his drink down. “That I am,” he agreed, shooting her a genuine grin before heading towards his future wife.

He only had eyes for her as he was forced to stop and greet people, make minute small talk as they slowly moved closer to each other. He cut off greetings that would take too long, promising to find people later, shaking hands and kissing cheeks… and then he reached her.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Felicity said.

Oliver took her hands, pulling her into his arms. “You look amazing.”

“And timely?” she asked and Oliver chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to the shell of her ear.

“Very timely.”

Felicity preened under his attention before looking around. “It looks like all the RSVP’s actually came tonight. That’s good. John can take it easy on the conniption.”

Oliver wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her into his side. Felicity waved at someone across the room, moving to talk to them when he tightened his hold on her.

“Let’s dance first.”

Felicity raised her eyebrows. “There’s no music yet.”

Oliver’s eyes found Thea’s where she was still at the bar, and he lifted his hand to his ear, gesturing. She rolled her eyes and nodded, heading towards the five-piece orchestra just finishing setting up. He laced his fingers through Felicity’s and pulled her out to the dance floor.

“Just one,” he said, smiling, not waiting for the music to start before he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against his chest.

“Always time for dancing,” Felicity replied, leaning into his embrace gladly, and they started swaying.

“Nice party,” Oliver said as the music started flowing.

“Yeah, it’s okay,” Felicity said with a shrug, and he shook his head in amazement, unable to believe that this wonderful woman - the woman who had become his everything before he even realized it, his light, his purpose, his future - was his, was going to be his forever, and he hers.

Oliver tipped her chin up, and gave her a chaste kiss, well-aware of their audience. Two other couples came out on the dance floor, joining them, followed by another as they moved to the music.

“Thank you for being a good sport about this,” Felicity said against his lips and Oliver kissed her again, stroking her cheek, his thumb brushing over her bottom lip.

“I’ll always do anything you ask, you know that,” Oliver whispered, and Felicity grinned up at him. “I love you.”

“I love you.” Felicity kissed him again. “I can’t wait to marry you, Mr. Smoak.”

Oliver laughed, a full-bodied laugh that they both reveled in as the room around them melted away, leaving them in their little bubble.

Neither noticed the flash of the camera.

“And I can’t wait to marry you, Mrs. Queen.”

They wrapped themselves around each other, taking their moment before they had to return to reality…

The next morning, the photo of them dancing, grinning at each other, both completely oblivious to the world around them, was the highlight of the society pages, locking in ten more investors for the new and improved Queen Incorporated.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/121441055809/hopeless-olicity-future-fic)
> 
> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


	17. We'll Make It Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - Anonymous asked: Can you please finish this: Felicity is sitting in front of her vanity, brushing her wet hair deep in thought. Oliver comes up behind her, a towel slung law on his hips. He puts both of his hands on shoulders and locks eyes with her in the mirror...

He smiled at her, softly, lovingly.

Felicity didn’t return it right away; instead, she just stared at him, at her Oliver… her husband.

They’d been married for almost six months now, and every morning felt like their first. She always woke up bathed in a sense of wonderment, whether it was to find him still asleep, or to his warmth moving over her, waking her with his body, or to the sight of him walking into the bedroom with two cups of coffee, or to him yanking her into his arms because he wanted just a few more minutes…

They’d talked about it, for a long while, long before the wedding, long before she’d asked him to marry her. They had a plan, they had things they wanted to get done first, stuff that needed to happen, stuff that needed to be in place before they moved onto that stage…

“What are you thinking?” he asked, gently pressing his fingers into her shoulders. She always carried too much tension in her muscles there, from hours spent bent over the computer, and he always came up at some point in the day, giving her some relief. 

His hands moved inward, his thumbs following the long column of her neck, tangling in her wet hair. He looked down long enough to lift her hair out of the way before he continued.

Felicity moaned her appreciation, leaning back against him. She’d gotten out of the shower first, she was at least dry, but he was still damp, his skin holding the heat of the shower water, the heat of their lovemaking. The knot of the towel at his waist pushed against her shoulder, and she felt his semi-erect hardness when he leaned back.

She stared at him, and he waited.

“I wanna have a baby,” she whispered.

Oliver’s wide eyes flew to hers. “What?”

Felicity smiled. “I want a baby. I want a… mini-Oliver, or a mini-Felicity, or… not that we’re going to put any definite identities on them just yet, because they’re going to be their own person, I don’t want them to be… I mean, they aren’t even a-”

Oliver’s abrupt laugh cut her and he was around her in an instant, leaning over her, his lips covering hers. He gripped the back of her head, his other arm wrapping around her waist, nearly lifting her off the chair as she grabbed onto his arms.

“Yes,” he whispered against her lips, nodding, and she laughed. “Yes.”

Their matching grins crashed against each other as they kissed, their laughter filling the room.

“A baby?” he suddenly asked, pulling back to look at her. Oliver’s face had transformed over the years of learning how to smile more, how to laugh more, and now when he grinned - like he was now - all their years of _happiness_ shined back at her. “But I thought-”

“There are a million and one reasons to wait,” Felicity said, cupping his face. “It won’t be easy, or… easy, at all, not with our pretty much around-the-clock double work duty, but-”

“We’ll make it work,” Oliver finished, his lips covering hers before she could get the words out. “We always make it work.”

Felicity laughed. She never would have heard those words falling from Oliver Queen’s lips four years ago… he sounded so sure, so confidant.

They would make it work. They always did.

“I love you,” Felicity breathed. That same wonderment she always felt when she woke up next to the love of her life, in a life she never thought she’d be lucky enough get, filled her voice and Oliver’s grin lit up the entire room.

“I love you.”

He kissed her again, and again. They quickly grew more urgent, more demanding. Oliver leaned down and picked her up, and she wrapped her legs around his waist.

“Might as well…” he said between kisses, moving towards their bed. His knees bumped into the mattress. “Get started now.”

“My birth control doesn’t wear off for another two weeks.”

Oliver leaned her over the bed, the show of his strength still taking her breath away. He set her down gently and shucked his towel.

“Practice makes perfect,” he replied before his lips covered hers again, his heated hands sliding down her body, pressing the silky camisole she wore up her waist, his fingers dragging underneath her lacy boyshorts.

“Yes, good, practice,” Felicity sighed. “So much practicing…”

One month later Felicity was pregnant, and nine months after that she gave birth to Thomas ‘Tommy’ Robert Queen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/121548136644/can-you-please-finish-this-felicity-is-sitting-in)
> 
> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


	18. Need A Minute

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Felicity gets sad she curls up into a ball on the far edge of the bed as a defense mechanism.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _smoakd asked: When Felicity gets sad she curls up into a ball on the far edge of the bed as a defense mechanism. For so long Felicity has been so alone that she doesn't know HOW to lean on someone for support. She only starts to learn when she begins a relationship with Oliver. Because he does everything he can to keep her demons at bay. So when she curls up on the side of the bed, Oliver slips into bed and spoons her, almost covering her body while he soothingly rubs his hand up and down her arm. TBC_
> 
> _He doesn’t do this sexually, but protectively. To show Felicity that she isn’t alone. That he will fight with her, for her, until he takes his last breath. That even though she may feel the need to use certain defense mechanisms to keep the outside world away, he’ll be there to help her. To be the shoulder she can lean on. And at some point, Felicity stops curling up in the corner of the bed when the world gets shitty. She simply goes to Oliver because she finally knows she isn’t alone anymore._
> 
> I wanted to write a blurb...

It was nearly five o’clock on a Tuesday afternoon in the middle of spring the first time she went to him.

He was upstairs - all the windows were open, a light breeze traveling through the upper level, carrying with it the scent of fresh cut grass and the new roses Cal had planted next door - opening up the paint to finish the new nursery. The soft orange he’d started the day before was dusky in the setting sun. Oliver had just raised an eyebrow when Felicity suggested the color, but when his six-month pregnant wife narrowed her eyes at him, he wisely chose to say nothing.

Oliver heard the front door opening downstairs… and nothing else.

He’d started to recognize the signs a few months after they moved in together - the set of her shoulders, the flat look on her face, the lack of spark in her eyes… she went through the motions, greeting him, talking with him, before she retreated, coming back a few hours later as his Felicity. He’d been alarmed at first - was she sick, had something bad happened - and when he followed her, the panic already starting to kindle in his gut, he found her curled up in bed, tucked in on herself.

_“Felicity?”_

_“I’m okay, Oliver, I just need… I just need a minute.”_

After a moment of debating whether to push her, Oliver had laid down next to her instead. He wrapped his arms around her, whispering her name… and when she sniffed, curling in on herself a little tighter, he just held her.

He didn’t ask about it, he didn’t push her… he just held her.

Sometimes it lasted a few minutes, sometimes a few hours - sometimes longer - but after a while she turned around and snuggled against him, holding him back, giving him a quiet, _“Thank you.”_

It started happening less and less as the years went by, but they it didn’t go away; he always went in so she wasn’t alone.

The quiet downstairs was unsettling.

Oliver waited, and when silence was the only thing that greeted him, he covered the paint and stepped towards the door just as Felicity appeared. Her heels hung loose in one hand, her other arm wrapped around middle, right over the bump. Her hair was loose from the wind, strands splayed around her face in a distorted halo… 

She smiled at him, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

“Hi,” he said softly, waiting for her to make a move, waiting for her to say something and retreat…

Instead she stepped forward and pushed herself into his arms.

Oliver immediately wrapped her up, pressing his face against the top of her head, breathing her in. She smelled like Queen Inc. - that weird office supply smell - mixed in with a trace of her perfume, and pure Felicity; she was starting to smell a little different now, the further the pregnancy progressed. Oliver loved it.

He took another breath as she deflated in his arms with a deep sigh, leaning against him completely.

“You okay?” he whispered and she nodded, pushing her face into his chest.

She sniffled, digging her face in more, and murmured, “You smell painty.”

“Paint’ll do that,” he replied with a tiny smile, and she just nodded. Oliver tightened his arms around her. “C’mere.”

Felicity lifted her head with a, “Hmm?” and Oliver stepped back, tugging her with him. She went without resistance and he pulled her over to the over-sized rocking chair they’d found a few weeks ago. It was _huge_ , obnoxiously so, and perfect for two people, or someone who wanted to sprawl out with a newborn infant…

Oliver sat down and pulled her into his lap. It was awkward, with her tight skirt and growing belly but they managed until she was curled up against his chest, their arms tangled, her face pressed into the nook that felt like it was made just for her between his neck and shoulder.

He’d ask in a little while what was wrong, knowing she’d tell him, knowing she’d open up to him, let him help her carry the burden, but until then…

He just held her.

When she started talking, they didn’t move until her stomach grumbled so loudly it shook the chair.

Felicity laughed, both of their hands flying to the bump, and when she looked up at him, beaming, Oliver grinned as his Felicity shined back at him.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/122187050834/when-felicity-gets-sad-she-curls-up-into-a-ball-on)
> 
> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


	19. MTV Ship of the Year Ficlets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All the ficlets I wrote for the MTV Ship of the Year reblog post.

“Felicity, is now really the time for that?”

“Yes,” she replied, her fingers flying over the screen of her phone as she tapped out the tags for her Tumblr post.

“You know,” Oliver said, jumping. His fingers barely snagged the edge of the service hatch at the top of the elevator and he grunted, getting a better grip before he looked back down at his girlfriend where she leaned against the elevator wall, staring at her phone. “We are stuck in an elevator.”

“You don’t say,” Felicity murmured, more focused on her phone. When the post was reblogged successfully, she did a little fist shake of triumph.

“Yep,” Oliver replied, struggling with the hatch lock. “Stuck in an elevator, and you’re-”

“All the more time to get my votes in,” Felicity interrupted, waving her phone.

“Votes for what?” Oliver asked just as he the hatch popped open. The metal door clanged loudly against the top of the elevator and Oliver hauled himself up.

“Ship of the year, Oliver, I already told you. You know, when you asked me one minute ago.” Oliver looked back down into the elevator as Felicity looked up. “Are we really going to have to do the ‘do you even listen to what I say’ argument?”

Oliver pinched his lips to keep himself from smiling. “No. I thought you’d already voted, that’s all. Come on.”

He reached down and Felicity clasped his arm, holding on as he yanked her up. Their voices echoed in the elevator shaft as Oliver looked up to see how far from the next floor they were.

“You can vote multiple times,” Felicity said, pulling up another post. “This is important.”

Oliver smiled and wrapped his arm around her waist. “I know.” He kissed her, and she scrunched her nose at him. “Get your votes in. I’ll get us out of this elevator shaft.”

“My hero,” Felicity said as he shimmied up the cable wire and leapt for the nearest floor’s doors. She glanced up long enough to appreciate her boyfriend’s very fine backside before she got back to reblogging.

* * * * *

The tiny flicker of lights outside the trunk were the only illumination as the car sped down the highway. Oliver squished her against the trunk hatch as he tried to pull his knee up enough to press on the back of the trunk, get _some_ leverage to kick the damn thing in.

Felicity bit the tip of her tongue, doing her best to ignore the not-sexy-at-all way Oliver’s back kept rubbing against her chest in the extremely small trunk. How the hell did they even fit in here it the first place?

“I can’t get it open with both of us in here,” Oliver murmured darkly, splaying his hand on the back of the trunk. “If I could just…”

Felicity tapped his shoulder.

“Hmm?” Oliver asked, running his fingers around the edges of the trunk.

“Can I ask you something?” Oliver’s response was a grunt. “Well, I know now really isn’t the time, but since we’re most likely hurtling towards a very certain death considering how fast this car is going, I think now might actually be a great time, although I suppose the argument could be made that _anything_ unrelated to getting out of-”

“Felicity… what’s your question?” Oliver asked, shoving his fingers into a tiny crevice.

“Will you marry me?”

Oliver froze, letting his hand drop to the trunk floor. “What?”

“I asked,” she said patiently. “If you’ll-”

“Yes,” Oliver replied instantly, and she could hear the grin in his voice. He let out a heavy breath of air and she felt him nodding. “Yes.”

"Oh good,” Felicity said. Oliver laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. She wrapped her his chest and kissed his shoulder blade. “Well, that’s settled then.”

“I…” Oliver tried to turn onto his back, but it had taken them ten minutes of wriggling to get him where he was now so he stopped. “If I were facing you, I’d kiss you.”

Felicity kissed his back again and his hand found hers where it was wrapped around his chest and squeezed.

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” she whispered. “Now, back to our trunky hijinks.”

* * * * *

(Continuation of previous ficlet...)

“Hey… Oliver.”

Her wrists were killing her and she was fairly certain if she tried bend her left one too far one more time, it was going to _snap right off_. And that would be bad. For her typing. She needed both hands for typing, unless someone had come up with a Luke Skywalker-esque robotic-

“Felicity,” Oliver said, interrupting her thoughts. “While I love hearing your voice, I doubt you chose this very second to talk about Star Wars.” 

“Oh. Right. Talking out loud. Must be the terrifying fear coursing through my veins. Okay.”

“Are you okay?”

“Oliver, the more times you ask, the less I am okay.”

“Sorry.”

Felicity kept sawing at the tight rope around her wrists, the tiny nail file barely making a dent. Oliver sighed where he was tied on a bench ten feet away. He’d been knocked out - bad - but thankfully the blood from the gash on his head was starting to slow, and he wasn’t babbling incoherently anymore.

“I did have something I wanted to ask you,” Felicity said, ignoring the tremor in her voice as the nail file continued to do _nothing_. “It’s kind of important.”

Oliver angled his head towards her, moving too slowly, like his brain was made of pudding. He blinked at her. “Yeah?”

What had they hit him with? How many times? Oliver didn’t get head injuries and _not_ bounce back. The thought sent _more_ fear trolling through her system and she shoved it down, forcing herself to talk to him.

“Remember when I proposed to you in the trunk of that car?”

A smile graced his lips, followed by a breathy chuckle. “I do.”

“And how we got married two weeks later?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Okay, well, I think maybe…” Felicity kept sawing, and felt more of the rope give away. _Finally_. “I think we should get on that whole ‘family’ thing. You know, have a baby. A dog. The whole white picket fence and potted plants and… green grass, and whatever else comes with the picture. We should do that. Maybe starting tomorrow. No, definitely starting tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Oliver breathed, nodding amiably. “I like that plan.”

Felicity stopped sawing at what sounded like _indifference_ in his voice and stared at him incredulously. “Oliver, we’ve been kidnapped - _again_ , I might add - and I’m sitting here talking about procreating despite the fact that our lives are basically the most dangerous things ever, and all you can say is, ‘I like that plan’?”

“Felicity, I’ve wanted kids with you since before we went on that road trip all those years ago.”

“What?” she whispered.

“I used to dream about it. I dreamed about kissing you, not going to the League, saving everyone… and kids. With you.”

Felicity could only stare at him. She felt the hot burn of tears stinging her eyes. “You did?”

“I did.” Oliver turned to her, smiling. “I’ve been ready for a long time.”

“Well… okay.” A tear - a _happy_ tear - slid down her cheek. “Good… that’s settled then.”

Oliver chuckled as Felicity continued to saw her way through the rope.

* * * * *

The sensation of something soft and kind of gooey being dragged across his skin woke him up. Oliver slowly opened his eyes, pushing past the hazy mess of sleep still clinging to him as he tried to grasp of what the hell was going on and what the hell was on his back.

A tiny hand was braced on one shoulder while his daughter’s other hand drew something on his back.

The bed shifted as his wife rolled over. “Tam, what are you… oh.” She giggled.

Oliver groaned, shoving his face back into the pillow before turning to face Felicity.

“Daddy, stop moving!” Tamsin said, poking his back and Oliver raised an eyebrow, lifting his head to glance back at his daughter. “I’m almost done.”

“Done with what?” he asked gruffly, his eyes sliding to Felicity, who’d just woken up herself. Her hair was wild, a crease in her cheek, her eyes bright with humor. “What?”

“It’s very sweet,” she said, dropping back on her pillow.

“There!” Tam said, and Oliver heard the distinct click of what sounded like… lipstick? She scrambled off his back and beamed down at him. “Go look!”

Oliver slowly rolled out of bed, listening to his daughter’s, “Don’t smudge it!” He pushed himself up, careful not to let his back touch anything and walked into the bathroom.

Rubbing his eyes, he ignored his bedraggled face and turned to see what she’d drawn on him.

In bright pink lipstick, Tam had drawn a giant heart and in the center the words, ‘Happy Father’s Day!’ were written in a very flowery font. 

Oliver laughed, shaking his head and turned back to look at his girls where they were still lounging in the bed. Tam’s face was filled with excitement, an even bigger grin breaking across her face when Oliver said, “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

* * * * *

Felicity sung under her breath as she scrubbed the bathtub. Her nose was already filled to the brim with chemicals - it was starting to make her a little loopier than normal, meaning it was about time to get the hell out of there - but the tub looked pristine. 

She and Oliver had been taking a shower that morning - a very, very good shower - and after he’d pushed the showerhead between them where he held her against the wall - she’d yelped his name so loudly it hurt her throat - she’d been slumped against the wall, trying to catch her breath, and noticed _soap scum everywhere_.

So she’d gotten out her toothbrush and scrubbed until her fingers were numb. 

She was almost done, just needed to scrub that little bit more there…

Felicity didn’t hear him when he entered the bathroom.

She didn’t realize that her scrubbing motions were making her entire body bounce rhythmically, or that the pajama shorts she was wearing had ridden up a while ago, letting the bottom of her ass peek out…

She didn’t notice when he stopped and stared, or when his eyes darkened the same way they had this morning when he’d pounced on her in the shower.

She was concentrating too much on a stubborn spot she was scrubbing, concentrating on remembering all the lyrics to the song she was singing, to hear him come up behind her until it was too late.

Oliver’s large hands cupped her ass with force, making her squeak in surprise, and he spread her cheeks before pushing them back together.

“Oliver!” she gasped, nearly falling into the tub but he caught her, and then he was on his knees behind her, bending over her, shoving his hand into her shorts, his other hand gripping her ass so tightly it was going to leave bruises. “Oliver… Oliver, this isn’t… oh… aahhh…”

Felicity suddenly didn’t care _at all_ whether the tub was clean or not.

* * * * *

Felicity’s arms tightened around his shoulders, and he lifted her a little, letting her settle further on his back. He had his hands hooked under her knees as he carried her through the party and out to his car where he was going to take his delightfully _trashed_ girlfriend home.

It had started out so innocently… they’d won the Homecoming game, so that meant party time. Usually it was Oliver who was making sure all the alcohol was okay to drink - he _cared_ \- not Felicity, but tonight… tonight someone had made jello shots, and that was the end of that.

Her tongue - her bright green tongue, and he only knew that because she’d stuck her tongue out at him when he said he was taking her home - licked the shell of his ear and his breath hitched.

“Felicity…” he growled, tightening his hold on her. She wiggled against his back, pressing her chest - _and so much more_ \- against him, and he growled again. “Stop.”

“No,” she breathed, the sound coming out way too sensual and lucid, and that wasn’t good because if he saw a clear-eyed Felicity staring at him when he got to the car… well, he might be more inclined to repeat the first time they christened his backseat. “Oliver…”

The music, the chatter, the loud yells and the sound of glass breaking all faded into the background as she licked his ear again before leaving a trail of feather-light kisses down the column of his neck. His pants grew tight, everything suddenly feeling very _hot_ , and he was grateful as hell when they got outside, and he spotted his car.

“I’m taking you home,” he said gruffly, gently letting her down, Felicity she didn’t let go. The instant her feet touched the ground she spun around him, her hands tugging his face down to hers. “Feli-”

She cut him off, and god, she tasted so _good_. She tasted like sour apple and _Felicity_. 

Oliver moaned, pushing her back against his car. He picked her up, sliding her up the passenger side door, and she wrapped her legs around him again.

“Condom?” she whispered against his lips, her hips undulating against his and he arched into her, groaning loudly, lost in the heady warmth of _her_ … before he remembered where he was.

Oliver pulled back, cupping her face, his breathing heavy as he stared at her.

Felicity smiled, leaning into his touch. “I’m okay, Oliver.”

“Yeah?” he rasped. “Because your entire mouth is green, which is making me wonder how many of those you had.”

“I only had two,” she replied, and he raised a skeptical eyebrow. “I did! Enough to make the world fuzzy, but not enough for me to mindlessly attack you without making sure you have a condom. See?” She tapped her temple. “Cognizant.”

Oliver laughed, his hand already heading to his wallet. “If you’re cognizant enough to say the word cognizant, then okay.”

“And you said it twice, so we’re super cognizant,” she said, biting her lip in a wide grin as Oliver found the condom. 

And then there were no more words.

* * * * *

Sitting next to him the _entire period_ was asking a little too much. She had to stare at his hands while he rolled his pencil between his thumb and forefinger, while he ran his fingers through his paper, while he tapped the desk, while he did… _anything_.

What was wrong with her?

Felicity shifted in her seat, turning back to the front of the room just as the bell rang. She jumped, her eyes flying to the clock - how in the world had forty minutes already passed? She barely remembered the teacher talking!

“Frak,” she whispered, closing her notebook. She looked at the board - double frak, she didn’t hear _any_ of that - as Oliver leaned down and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

“Save it for someone else’s class, Queen!” the teacher said, making Felicity jump again and she could practically hear Oliver’s eyes rolling.

“You ready?” he asked, holding his hand out. Felicity shoved her stuff back into her bag and took his hand… and sort of forgot that she was supposed to be upset that she hadn’t been paying attention. 

His hands were warm, so warm, and the perfect balance between calloused and soft… She shivered, remembering how they’d felt when he’d pushed them underneath her shirt a few hours ago, barely making it under her bra before the bell had rung, interrupting them.

Oliver led her out of the room.

One second they were in the hallway, making their way to their lockers, and the next Oliver was opening the door to the supply closet. 

He shut the door behind them, dousing them in absolute darkness, and she tightened her hold on his hand, feeling him move to face her again as she said, “Oliver, I don’t think we’re supposed to be-”

Oliver cupped her cheeks and his lips slanted over hers; just like that, she forgot what she was going to say, just like when she’d been mesmerized by his hands or when his touch left her a little too speechless, Felicity felt all her concerns melt away. She returned the kiss with vigor, clenching his shirt into tight fists.

Oliver moaned her name, pushing her back until they collilded with a shelf. Something light and plastic-y fell from the top, landing on the floor with a thud, but they didn’t hear it, they didn’t care. They only felt each other, felt their lips, their hands, the rough clothes in the way, the soft moans and quiet gasps and…

Oliver’s hands slid down her sides, going lower and lower. She moaned when they grazed the top of her thighs, slipping up under her skirt.

Oliver pulled back, and Felicity moaned her disapproval, her lips feeling delightfully swollen and abused as Oliver… disappeared.

He dropped to his knees in front of her, pushing her skirt up out of the way. 

Felicity gasped. “You’re doing that _here_?”

Oliver chuckled. “Oh hell yes.”

“Oliver…” She gasped when he pushed his face between her legs, pushing one of her legs up to rest on his shoulder. “Oliver, what if… what… oh god…” Felicity choked out another moan.

She tried again, tried to find the words, but they all escaped her as Oliver proceeded to lick every inch of her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


	20. Hammock vs. Bed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Babe, listen, I got a hammock and I got rid of our bed."

**"Babe, listen, I got a hammock and I got rid of our bed."**

“You did _what_?”

“And they delivered it, can you believe they delivered and installed a hammock… and got rid of our bed. Amazing.”

“Oliver, I need… wait, stop talking - no, stop talking, stop… Oliver, are you drunk?”

“No. Why would you ask me that?”

“Well, one reason might be the fact that you sound drunk, and that you got rid of our bed. For a hammock.”

“Have you ever slept in a hammock, Felicity? It’s amazing.”

“Better question-”

“What am I saying, of course you have, we slept on that one in that beach town near Mexico. Do you remember that place? They had fish. Everywhere.”

“I remember the fish.”

“That one bit my toe.”

“It did not bite your toe.”

“Yeah, it did, Felicity, I was _there_.”

“Oh my god. New rule: you’re not allowed to have your credit cards when you go out with Diggle and Roy. Weren’t you a party guy, Oliver, don’t you have at least a tiny tolerance to alcohol?”

“Yes.”

“Pfft. Okay.”

“Are you mad?”

“No, Oliver, but… why a hammock?”

“It was Roy’s idea.”

“I am going to kill Roy.”

“Okay.”

“Oliver, have you ever slept in a hammock in the middle of winter in Starling City?”

“… No.”

“Well neither have I, and I can’t say that’s really on my bucket list, so-”

“We’ll move it inside!”

“Oh my god.”


	21. Emojis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - waytoomanyfeelings asked: Can you please right a quick Olicity fic in emojis or about emojis in honor of Stemily on Twitter?? I'm losing my mind like the rest of the fandom

Her phone dinged.

Felicity glanced at the screen as she took a bite of her sandwich, and froze. With turkey and swiss hanging all over her chin, she leaned over to get a closer look at what Oliver had just texted her.

Emojis. 

He was using _emojis_.

It was a girl and a guy, with a giant pink heart between them.

That was it.

Felicity finished her bite and shook her head. Chewing, she mumbled, “Really, Oliver?” as she opened the message to reply.

She sent him a clapping emoji with a pair of kissing lips.

*

His phone dinged.

He barely heard it over the sound of his fists pummeling the dummy, but he caught it. Oliver stopped abruptly, his ears ringing with the sound of his harsh breathing as he turned to his phone, his eyes narrowing.

The indicator light blinked at him from Felicity’s unmanned desk. 

He’d just hung up with her, telling her repeatedly that he knew the video conference with China was coming up, and he knew he needed to know the financials before he did it, and that he would and she didn’t need to worry about it.

What she didn’t know was he’d moved it up and it was already over, so he could be home when she flew in.

Still breathing heavily, Oliver swiped his hand down his sweaty face as he made his way over, wiping his hand off before picking it up

It was a text message, with a series of emojis: an hourglass, a stack of books, a pencil writing on paper and a no-walking sign. 

He raised an eyebrow, smiling… and sent her back one emoji: an arrow in a bullseye.

He could practically hear her growl of annoyance over the thousand miles separating them before she immediately sent him an emoji with x’s for eyes.

*

Her phone dinged.

Everyone in the conference room looked at her.

“Sorry,” she said, switching the sound off on her phone. She nodded to the man standing at the opposite end of the table where he’d paused in the middle of his presentation. “No more interruptions! Sorry, Andy, keep going.”

As Andy continued on about the projections for the Applied Sciences department going into the next quarter, Felicity opened the text from Oliver.

He’d sent her a globe, palm tree, a tropical fish, a kissing emoji and a girl wearing a wedding dress.

She smiled, her chest filling with elation and excitement for their five year anniversary. She moved to reply when he sent a bikini and an emoji with hearts for eyes.

Felicity laughed out loud before clamping a hand over her face as everyone turned to stare at her again. 

*

His phone dinged.

His phone had been dinging, relentlessly, the entire time he was out. Oliver dropped the groceries on the counter, opening the most recent text: an alien emoji, over and over and over and…

“Get up here, mister!” Felicity yelled from their bedroom and Oliver chuckled.

“I’m not the one who had to have sharp cheese and chocolate milk,” Oliver yelled back, grabbing the bag and jogging up the stairs to continue their marathon… well, his marathon, as it was apparently a punishable crime that he hadn’t watched The X-Files yet.

*

Her phone dinged.

Felicity glanced at the preview of the text as she opened the front door, and saw a… dog emoji?

She stepped into the foray as a sharp yip came from deep inside the house. Felicity froze, cocking her head - _“I can’t go to animal shelters without taking one home, Oliver, and you darn well know Evie will be the same way”_ \- when she heard the tiny sound of pitter-pattering paws followed by the distinct sound of their daughter’s squeal of delight.

Felicity didn’t have a second to comprehend anything when the herd rounded the corner in a blur. Evie crashed into Felicity, the puppy - the very large and very uncoordinated St. Bernard puppy - crashed into her legs, all followed very closely by their two black labs and a chuckling Oliver.


	22. Phone Pictures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - Anonymous asked: This is random: Do you think Oliver changed Felicity's photo in his phone to a selfie of them, or a picture he took of her, and same thing with Felicity and her phone? I cannot wait for canon Olicity and the cute domestic-ness they're going to bring!

“Ollie, phone!”  


“I’m right here, Speedy,” Oliver said, snatching his phone from his sister, checking the screen.  


 _Felicity_.

One of his favorite things about the new phones QI had developed was their ability to shuffle through different pictures with each ring. It was no longer an unusual thing for it to take him more than five rings to pick up the phone.

The first was of both of them from their road trip - Felicity had been kissing his cheek before the phone appeared, and then she’d opened her eyes as wide as she could, puffing her cheeks out, tickling him as she blew a raspberry on his face.  The second was Felicity in bed one morning, the sun shining on her, her hair a wild blonde halo, her bottom lip between her teeth as she gave him _that look._ The third was a picture someone had taken of them on the road trip; they’d been on the beach and had gotten a beautiful shot with the sunset, as well as this candid when they hadn’t been looking. They were standing in the surf, staring at each other, and they looked so… _peaceful._ It was his favorite, because that conversation had been the opposite of peaceful - they’d been arguing about the hotel, and towels. That was why he liked it - even when they were disagreeing, they were still so _happy_.

“Answer the phone before you start making out with it,” Thea threw over her shoulder before she left the room.

Oliver gave her back an exasperated look.  


“Hello, Mrs. Smoak-Queen,” he said.  


“Well, hello to you too, Mr. Queen-Smoak.” Felicity hummed before he could ask if she was on her way home and said, “You know, we should rethink this whole last name thing. I could really get used to being called Queen Smoak.” Oliver chuckled. “I mean, it could be a thing.”

“I love you,” Oliver said softly - in wondrous disbelief, as she had dubbed it - and grabbed his keys, following Thea out the front door. He locked the door behind him and turned to find Thea already halfway down the stairs. She paused, giving him a look as she waved at him to catch up. “Your future sister-in-law is glaring at me.”

“That might be because she’s been given the duty of making sure you get your fittings done today.” Oliver’s shoulders fell as he huffed, and Felicity laughed. “It’ll take an hour, tops, Oliver. And, if you do it… maybe I’ll be naked when you get home.”  


Oliver smirked, jogging down the stairs. “Maybe, huh?”  


“Hey, sometimes I do wear actual clothes around the house. And maybe there’ll be wine. And bubbles. In the bath… Ooh, yes, I think I’ll take a bath.”

“Don’t start without me,” Oliver replied instantly, climbing into Thea’s car. “I’ll be there in half an hour.”  


“I sure hope you guys are talking about dinner.”  


*

Felicity thumbed back to her contacts - Oliver’s name was at the top of her recents, where it belonged. He was her go-to man when it came to important, life-or-death situations, the missions she trusted no one else with, such as the one he was currently on: peanut butter and rainbow sprinkles.

She tapped on his name again, her teeth aching with a wicked desire for Cheez Whiz - she could already hear the lecture from her “I’ve-read-every-single-pregnancy-book-on-the-planet” boyfriend.

His picture filled the screen as the call attempted to connect - really, it was _their_  picture. Felicity stared at it with a soft smile, like she always did when it came up. It was from one of their many, many lazy Sundays, a tradition they’d instituted on the road trip in order to really hone the idea of _relaxation_. It started out with intentions of bumming around, watching TV and eating bad food all day, but it always ended with over 100 ridiculous selfies - most of which ended up blurry and useless - and sex. 

All the sex. 

So much sex.

They hadn’t had too many of those Sundays since they’d been back, but when they did happen, they were  _wonderful_.

And very likely why she was in her current condition.

The picture was from a Sunday on the road trip - they were laying in bed, facing each other; Oliver was wrapped around her, his face pressed to her chest with a mischievous grin, his body tense because he’d just started to tickle her, which explained why her face was all squished, her head thrown back, her mouth open in a loud laugh…

They were so…

 _Happy_.

He picked up.

“I’m just now leaving, Felicity.” 

He did not sound amused… probably because she’d just called him three minutes ago.  


“Cheez Whiz?”  


“Oh, for the… Fine. You do remember what we read about processed cheeses, right?” Oliver asked, the sound of a grocery bag crunching in the background as he turned around and headed back into the grocery store to get it for her anyway. “Can you even call that stuff _cheese?_ ”  


The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/124726348624/this-is-random-do-you-think-oliver-changed)
> 
> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


	23. When He Smiles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity loves when Oliver smiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - smoakd asked: Headcanon: Felicity loves to see Oliver smile. She loves seeing his nose scrunch in the most adorable way, she loves it when his dimples come out of hiding, and she loves how his face lights up. Whenever he does smile, Felicity always has to fight the urge to graze his cheek and outline his dimples. Sometimes she wins, sometimes she loses. :')

She heard the heavy metal door sliding open and their low chatter. it was just the boys coming in, sliding the door shut again before they headed towards the main room. Felicity looked up, her eyes flying to the shadowy back half of the Arrow Cave just as they stepped into the light. 

Diggle had his gun in hand and he was pulling the clip out, saying something she couldn’t hear. Oliver had his hood down - _that new suit would probably always make her breath catch; she still wondered if Cisco had somehow known what seeing his arms like that would do to her -_  his bow in hand, his eyes on Diggle, a soft smile on his lips…

It had taken them two years to work their way back to a level that was close to the friendship they had shared before the League business, to learn to forgive, to learn to trust each other again… they were finally getting there.

At least enough for them to joke like they were, like they used to.

Diggle said something that had a giant grin spreading over Oliver’s face, and when Diggle looked up with a sardonic look on his face, his grin erupted into a full-blown laugh, his entire face transforming.

She loved when he laughed - it was like all the years and troubles he’d been carrying for so long were erased in fell swoop, replaced with pure light. Those beautiful crinkles at the corners of his eyes, his eyes brightening, his dimples deepening…

They got closer, Oliver still chuckling and shaking his head.

“Hi there,” he said, just for her, his hand finding her shoulder as he bent down to give her a quick kiss. 

“Hey,” she replied, her heart skipping a beat, like it always did. He gave her a peaceful smile and her fingers tingled with the urge to reach up and trace it, but she held back as he continued talking to Diggle, both of them moving to put their equipment away.

She turned to watch, a soft smile on her lips.

It was Diggle’s turn to laugh at something at Oliver said, which had that gorgeous grin coming back.

*

She was babbling, as she usually was - it was her thing, her brain literally lacked an off switch - and this time it was about the science behind the magic of a burger and a milkshake.

Felicity started going into the side-role of fries and milkshakes as she picked up a fry, dunking it into her malty drink before holding it out for Oliver. She paused when she saw him staring at her, a soft smile on his face.

She cocked her head. “What? Don’t tell we’re gonna talk about dairy products and fried foods again.”

Oliver laughed - he no longer just chuckled, his lips barely pulling back; now his laughs were full-bodied affairs, his smiles large and stunning and always taking her damn breath away.

He grasped her wrist and brought the fry to his lips.

And then he licked her fingers.

Her body clenched in response and she mock glared at him. “Oliver, really, Big Belly Burger is not the appropriate place for me to sweep this food off the table and attack you. Stop that.”  


“Sorry,” he said, not sounding even a little sorry, letting her go, scrunching his nose at her. She did it back, and he laughed again before picking up his burger.  


Before she knew what she was doing, Felicity was reaching out to touch that smile - to revel in it, to make sure it was real, to re-memorize those dimples, the laugh lines on his face… but she stopped herself, bringing her hand back to her own mouth where she tapped her lips.

It was his turn to ask, “What?”

She smiled. “Nothing.”

He nodded to her cup. “You better finish that milkshake, or I’m taking it.”  


“Maybe you shouldn’t inhale yours right when you get it. Just order another one.”  


“I want yours.”  


Felicity grabbed her cup, cradling it to her chest. “You’ll have to fight me for it.” 

Oliver grabbed her other hand, pulling it across the table to his face where he pressed a wet kiss to her pulse point. She sighed, instinctively leaning closer, her nails scratching at his cheek… he suddenly reached over and yanked her milkshake out of her hands.   


“Hey!” Felicity narrowed her eyes. “Cheater.”

Oliver laughed, taking a healthy sip before giving her cup back.

*

He smiled in his sleep now. 

He rarely had nightmares anymore; she’d noticed the smile a few weeks into their relationship - he was always smiling in his sleep.

Tonight it was a soft, gentle curve, accenting one of his dimples.

Felicity reached out, tracing it lightly. The smile deepened the second she touched his bare cheek - he’d shaved it all off that morning when their daughter had lovingly painted his face green the night before, staining the hair there - and his eyes slowly opened.

“Hi,” she whispered.  


“Hi,” he replied, his smile fading into something more quietly serene as she dragged her hand down his cheek to his chest. “You just getting home?”  


“Yeah.” Felicity nodded, scooting closer. She hummed when he opened his arms, letting her cuddle into his side, pressing her forehead to his. “One more emergency meeting and I might disband the entire company on principal.”

Oliver chuckled, pressing a kiss to the tip of her nose. “Tell me who messed up this time and I’ll go beat them up.”

Felicity smiled, her eyes already growing heavy as she settled against him. She felt his embrace loosening a little as he too felt the tug of sleep, his body relaxing against hers.

“My hero,” she whispered, before they fell asleep.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/125096181414/headcanon-felicity-loves-to-see-oliver-smile-she)
> 
> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


	24. Eight Years

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Eight years ago..."

  
  
Prompt picture from [olicitypromptsblog](http://olicitypromptsblog.tumblr.com/)  


“Eight years ago,” he said softly, wrapping an arm around her waist to pull her flush against him. 

Oliver gripped her other hand in his, his wedding band catching some of the shimmering light coming off the candles on all the tables in the reception hall, pulling it to rest over his chest as he held her close, the soft music from the orchestra filling the air around them.

He didn’t see their guests starting to follow suit, or hear the clinking of glasses accenting the low murmured talk…

It was only her; he only had eyes for her… always her.

Felicity looked up at him, her beautiful blue eyes soft and warm, filled with absolute devotion and love, with happiness and joy, with contentment and a purity that touched the very depths of his soul.

“Eight years?” she asked, tilting her head.

Oliver smiled, leaning down, touching his forehead to hers. She closed her eyes, snuggling further into his embrace as they swayed to the music, holding him as much as he held her.

“Eight years,” he repeated, and she looked at him. Her soft breath tickled his lips, and he tilted her head back just enough to brush his against hers. “Eight years ago today I walked into this girl’s office, needing her help with a laptop that wouldn’t turn on.”  


“Mm,” Felicity replied, pressing her lips to his again. “Pesky bullet holes.”  


Oliver grinned. “She was buried in work; she didn’t even notice me until I said her name… _Felicity Smoak_.” 

She smiled, remembering right along with him.

“She was chewing on a red pen with bright pink lipstick, babbling,” She giggled, “And seeing right through my bullshit.”

“Well, last time I checked, lattes don’t leave terrifying holes in machinery.”  


He chuckled. “The way you looked at me, it was so unexpected. I was used to people just going along with whatever I said, but you didn’t even bother.”

Felicity hummed. “You smiled.”

“I did.” Oliver nodded against her, his forehead still pressed to hers. “It was… real. I hadn’t smiled like that in a long, long time.”

Felicity pulled back to look up at him, squeezing his hand in hers where they rested on his chest and lifted her other hand to touch his lips. 

He was smiling.

He was always smiling these days; she’d made a point of poking his “new” crow’s feet the other day.

“You were this light, a light I became addicted to, a light I didn’t even realize I’d needed… 

“I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you, Felicity,” he whispered, his lips moving under her fingers. 

A sheen of tears flooded her eyes for a second before she blinked them away, her lower lips trembling slightly.

Oliver leaned down before she could respond, her hand sliding to cup his cheek as he kissed her - as he kissed _his wife_  - holding her closer, reveling in the sensation of being in her arms, surrounded by their loved ones celebrating a life he thought he’d never have, a life he thought he didn’t deserve… 

Until he met her.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Original Tumblr Post](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/125694714894/eight-years-ago-he-said-softly-wrapping-an-arm)
> 
> Reviews literally feed my soul and muse.


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